Mackowiak finds playing for hometown team has its downsides

Nathaniel Whalen

Friday

Jun 22, 2007 at 12:01 AMJun 22, 2007 at 10:01 PM

Feature on White Sox player and Chicago-area native Rob Mackowiak.

When the White Sox acquired him in a 2005 trade with Pittsburgh, Rob Mackowiak got a new contract, team and role.
Everyone knows that.
Along with all of that, though, Mackowiak got a few lesser-known changes that not too many people know about.
He got a new cell phone number because his old one was blowing up. He got tons of new friends. He heard from family members whom he hadn’t heard from before.
He also got the pressure of playing in front of his hometown crowd every day.
Things sure did change when the Oak Lawn native came home to play ball.
“The beginning of last year was tough,” Mackowiak said of his first year with the Sox. “I changed my phone number to make it a little bit easier. I gave it to a select few. I said, ‘If somebody else gets it, you’re in trouble. I gave you it — gave you it — I know where the source is coming from.’ Not that you don’t want to talk to people; you just can’t talk to a lot of people. You can’t talk to everybody you’ve been friends with your whole life. It’s impossible.”
That doesn’t mean people didn’t try.
All of a sudden the trade that brought him from the baseball wasteland of Pittsburgh to the Sox turned Mackowiak from a utility player into one of the most popular men in the Southland.
People who hadn’t talked to him in ages popped up out of the woodwork with requests for tickets, or a chance to talk with or even just be acknowledged by a real-life major leaguer.
“It (his phone) was just ringing constantly, all day long,” Mackowiak said. “Not randomly; just people you haven’t seen since you were in the eighth grade. You’ll see them up in the stands and they’ll say, ‘Hey, you don’t remember me?’ No. You’re 30, you’re bald, you were a little guy, now you’re a big guy, whatever. It’s hard, because we’ve changed so much since grade school. It’s hard to remember everybody.
“Every game, ‘Hey, do you remember me?’ You’re like (long pause) then they say the name and you’re like, ‘I remember you now.’ Face to face, we all look different after 10, 12, 15 years. Whatever it may be.”
One of the most awkward times is during batting practice, when people will just wave to Mackowiak, expecting him to know who they are, since they know who he is.
“Yeah, just the wave. ‘Hey, what’s up?’ ” Mackowiak said. “You’re not sure it’s the same guy you’re thinking it is. But that’s good. I’m sure it’s exciting for that person to see someone you grew up with on the field, maybe they played with me in high school or wherever that may be. That’s a cool thing for both of us.”
Then there are the ticket requests.
“We’ve had that (with people) coming out of nowhere, some family members you didn’t see too often, then they want to see you,” said Bob Mackowiak, Rob’s father. “Everyone thinks if you need 100 tickets, you get 100. As time went out, they realized no (that’s not how it works).”
Major League Baseball set up a comp system, whereby each player can get up to six free tickets for most of his team’s games, but have to pay taxes on all the tickets.
Very few people calling for tickets understand that.
“Sometimes, you’re like, ‘Yeah. I’m not sure who I’m talking to,’ then they’re like ‘Can I get nine?’ ” Rob Mackowiak said. “Whoa, I mean, nine? You didn’t just ask for ‘me and my wife to go’. You asked for nine, or eight, or whatever is. Sometimes people take it a little out of proportion. Some people have a lot of gall to call and ask for however many tickets, but they do it.”
Of course, that makes it easier for Mackowiak to sort out who his real friends are, since they’re the ones who don’t call asking for an absurd number of tickets.
In fact, some rarely even talk baseball with their major league buddy.
“He has a job to do,” said Jason Sikich, one of Mackowiak’s friends and former high school mate. “That’s his job. I have a job and I don’t call him — I’m in sales and I wouldn’t call him before a big sale and say ‘Hey, Bobby, what’s up?’
“I don’t expect him to give me advice on my job, and I won’t give him advice on his job, even though his is a lot more fun.”
While there are problems, being the hometown hero has its upside, too.
Mackowiak gets to play for his favorite childhood team — “it’s a dream come true” — doesn’t have a long commute, and there is a baby sitter system built in place.
“It’s fantastic for us,” said Bob Mackowiak, who says he tries to attend every home weekend game and a few weekday games. “When he was in Pittsburgh, we used to come every weekend on the homestand. You don’t really get to see your grandson (Garrett) that much. At a baseball game, half a night on Saturday, see him Sunday morning, at the game, then we had to go home. I think family (in Chicago) you have that, a little bit of relief, if something happens, we’re here.
“We can be at each others’ house in 35 minutes.”
Or at the park in a flash.
Mackowiak’s son Garrett is one of the more frequent visitors among children in the Sox clubhouse. Garrett can often be seen playing catch with manager Ozzie Guillen, stuffing his face with licorice or just running around after the games.
After that, the two can walk out and visit with the elder Mackowiaks.
“I usually see him after the games,” Bob Mackowiak said. “Usually after. Before the games is too early. It’s just so hard because of BP (batting practice) and all that stuff, stretching and stuff like that. Usually afterward, we’ll catch him for a little while, 15-20 minutes in the parking lot. It’s short.
“You know if it was a bad game. It’s on his face. You can see it a little. You don’t have to say anything. As years went on, I’m not saying you don’t talk about it because you do, we don’t dwell on it. (All we say is) ‘Tough game.’ ”
Mackowiak also gets to hang out more with his childhood friends, more so after the season.
“I probably talk to him a lot more during the offseason than in the season because he’s focused on the game, going to batting practice, stuff like that,” Sikich said. “He’s absolutely the same person (he was growing up), but during the season, he has to stay more focused on the day-to-day stuff.”
There’s the bad — the unexpected visitors, the calls and the ticket requests — but the first thing Mackowiak mentions when asked about being a local player for the local team is the good.
“As a kid I watched Ozzie, watched (first base-coach) Harold (Baines),” Mackowiak said of the former Sox standout players. “I watched these guys and idolized them as players. To learn from them, it’s something every kid wished he could do.”
More Sox coverage is online at www.dailysouthtown.com/sports.

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